Location
City Of Coleville
Created by Kstarfireheart3583Once a growing metropolitan hub in the southeast border of California with a population exceeding one hundred thousand residents, Coleville now stands as a haunting testament to catastrophic ruin. The city's skyline is dominated by imposing steel structures—massive office towers that rise like tombstones, their facades austere and marked by broken windows, built during an era of architectural austerity in the mid-twentieth century. Surrounding these monoliths are the charred remains of brick and stone commercial buildings, their facades blackened by the fires that swept through the downtown district, leaving only skeletal frameworks and crumbling facades. The residential sprawl that once housed the city's working class is being consumed by nature, with some suburban neighborhoods now barely visible beneath cascading vines, wildflowers, and opportunistic vegetation reclaiming what humanity abandoned. Coleville's proximity to the sprawling military air base to the east was once its greatest economic asset, drawing defense contractors and supporting industries that fueled decades of prosperity. The base itself remains partially operational by mercenary survivors of the Viral Apocalypse though its runways are cracked and its hangars stand open. Nature has transformed Coleville into an overgrown labyrinth, where weeds push through concrete and trees grow from rooftops, slowly dismantling the urban infrastructure brick by brick. The city is ground zero when the genetically altered T-virus escaped into the world. Mutant monsters which were once human have made the city their home.
Open in Summon WorldsDetails
- Type
- City
Landmarks
The Charred Control Tower
A skeletal steel structure rising 200 feet above the cracked airbase tarmac, its exterior blackened by intense fire and pocked with shrapnel damage. The observation deck windows have been blown out, leaving gaping holes that frame views of the ruined city beyond. Inside, twisted metal catwalks and scorched control panels remain frozen in time, while vines creep up the interior walls. The basement levels are partially flooded with murky water, and strange mechanical sounds echo through the shaft on windy days—whether from settling metal or something else remains unknown.
The Overgrown Atrium of Coleville Central
A massive indoor plaza once housed within a sprawling steel office complex, now open to the sky where the roof has partially collapsed. Sunlight streams through jagged metal beams and shattered skylights, illuminating a forest of vines and saplings that have transformed the marble floor into a garden of cracked stone and soil. Rusted escalators lead to upper levels shrouded in shadow, while a grand fountain at the center—now a stagnant pool—serves as a watering hole for wildlife. Scattered throughout are toppled office furniture, filing cabinets spilling yellowed documents, and a few intact storefronts with their windows blown out, offering glimpses into a frozen moment of civilization. The air is thick with moisture and the smell of decay, though birdsong echoes through the space, creating an eerie symphony of nature reclaiming human architecture.
World connections